


Object of Affection

by Sebebrit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-29 06:40:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3886198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sebebrit/pseuds/Sebebrit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleven year old Dean is blessed by a Nereid while on a hunt.  But is it really a blessing, or a curse?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"You want me to WHAT?!" John Winchester was a formidable man at most times, but never more so than when he was angry. His brows were drawn low over dark eyes, and his face was hard and cold. He was a solidly built man, with broad shoulders and a thick chest. At just over six feet tall, he was more than enough to make most men back down.

The man gazing back at him was not intimidated in the least. He was a Hunter, just like John, and he had faced things much more terrifying than an ex-Marine. Steven Cooper leaned against the doorframe of the living room in the small cabin and stared back at John impassively. He was smaller than John, more wiry strength than muscle. The kindest word to describe him would be 'average.' Cooper had dark brown hair and unremarkable muddy brown eyes. He had an uncanny ability to disappear into a crowd. He just blended... and he took advantage of that trait every chance he got. "I don't WANT you to do it, but we don't have any other option here. We need this! And there's only one way to get it."

John drew a shaky hand down his face and sighed. He knew Cooper was right. People were dying. It started with a headache and a slight fever, then it progressed to intractable vomiting. No matter what the doctors at the hospital tried, they couldn't help the afflicted. It was a nasty curse that had been laid upon the town by a disgruntled witch, and the cure was difficult to come by. They had to gather a list of incredibly rare ingredients and mix a potion under the light of the full moon. John had hoped that killing the woman would break the curse, but two more people had fallen ill since they had salted and burned the body. John felt the weight of those two lives hanging in the balance, and he wished that would make his decision easier.

He and Cooper had gathered all of the other ingredients for the potion, there was only one left. Unfortunately, it was the most difficult one to obtain... tears of sorrow from a Nereid. Nereids were known as the daughters of Poseidon. They were charming little nymphs with musical laughter and a love for the sea. They often lived in caves and grottoes on the edge of the ocean. The sea nymphs were peaceful creatures, so most Hunters left them alone. Some lore said that if you made one of them laugh, she would grant you a wish. This is what the men were counting on. The problem was, Nereids were said to be irresistible to men. Any man past puberty would take one look at them and forget what he came for. John hadn't known at the time, but Cooper knew all of this before he ever called John for help with this hunt. He KNEW killing the witch wouldn't stop the curse, and he had already put together over half of the items needed for the cure. He also knew that John had something that he needed, a boy young enough to confront a Nereid and not be enthralled. A boy that had been training as a Hunter for years already, and could be trusted to keep his head. Dean.

"You can't just expect me to send him into a Nereid's cave alone! He's eleven years old!" John's frustration was coming through loud and clear as he paced the room.

"That's exactly what I expect you to do, "Cooper said calmly. He raised his cigarette to his lips and took a lazy drag. "If you try to go with him, you'll only be in his way. Then he'll have to drag you out of there before you do something stupid. Dean's a good kid, he knows the score. He'll do what you tell him."

John scowled at this, but didn't argue the point. He knew he was only prolonging the inevitable. He couldn't walk away and leave all these people to suffer. But to willingly send his child into the lair of a supernatural creature went against all of his instincts. He took a deep breath and blew it out forcefully, then jerked his head in a terse nod. Turning toward the bedrooms at the other end of the cabin, he raised his voice and called out.

"Dean! Come in here!"


	2. Chapter 2

Dean Winchester sat cross-legged on his bed in the smallest room of the cabin on the bluff overlooking the sea. He stared out the window at the waves crashing below. What he wouldn't give to be down there on the beach, if only it wasn't so bitterly cold. He ran a small hand through his short, dark blonde hair and sighed. He had been so excited when Dad said that he needed Dean's help for this one, but so far all Dean had done was sit in his room and stay out of sight. 'Out of sight, out of mind' the little voice in his head reminded him. His shoulders slumped even further. He had hoped that this hunt would be the chance to redeem himself, maybe finally get his father to forgive him for Fort Douglas.

Dean closed his bright green eyes and shuddered at the memory. Several months ago, his father had been hunting a Shtriga in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin. He had told Dean to stay in the room with his younger brother Sammy. And he had! At first. But there's only so long a ten year old boy can stay locked in a crappy motel room without losing his mind. Add a six year old brother who's constantly asking questions to the mix, and you're just begging for trouble. Dean truly hadn't meant to disobey their father, he just needed to breathe for a minute. So, he tucked Sammy into bed, locked the door, and walked to the arcade just down from the motel. He wasn't gone that long, but apparently it was long enough. When he returned to the room, he found the wraith-like being hovering over his baby brother, sucking the life from him. Dean had immediately grabbed the shotgun loaded with consecrated iron, but he couldn't take the shot... he just froze. What if he hit Sammy? What if the iron didn't work and he just made the Shtriga angry? What if--

His musings had been cut off by his father's voice, screaming at him to get down. A shotgun blast filled the air, and the Shtriga was out the window in a flash. His father was cradling Sammy in his arms, demanding to know what happened. Dean was in a daze. He let the gun drift to the floor, and hesitantly explained that he had gone out, just for a little while. To say his father was livid was an understatement. In Dean's defense, if his father had just TOLD him that there was a soul-stealing monster in town that liked to feed on little kids, there's no way he would have left Sammy alone. 'Like he left you alone" the little voice supplied. 

John had grabbed both boys and all of their things and taken them to Pastor Jim in Blue Earth, Minnesota, about three hours away. He didn't bother to give Jim a real explanation, just dumped the kids and ran back to take care of the monster. Only the Shtriga was long gone by the time he returned to Fort Douglas. When he came back to Pastor Jim's house, John's anger had begun to burn cold. He wouldn't even look at Dean, and when he did, it was with a look filled with disgust and disappointment.

Dean was trying to be good. He did everything that he was supposed to, he never let Sammy out of his sight, he was respectful and quiet. Too quiet. His father's gaze began to fall on him more and more, and it got angrier and angrier until things finally came to a head. One night at dinner, Sammy was chattering away about something or other and Dean was staring at his plate, moving food around instead of eating. He felt the weight of his father's glare and timidly looked up. John's face was flushed with rage, a little vein in his forehead throbbing.

"Why are you being so freaking quiet?! " He shouted, slamming a hand down onto the table and rattling the dishes. "Say something!"

"I'm sorry," Dean said miserably, hunching over in his seat. He dropped his eyes to his plate again.

John actually growled and stood abruptly, his chair legs screeching against the wood floor. Dean couldn't have stopped his instinctive flinch if he'd wanted to.

"Christ," John whispered tiredly. "I can't do this." He left the table and crossed to the door that went outside. A few moments later, the rumble of their father's 1967 Impala filled the air.

"Why did Daddy leave?" Sammy implored, big eyes pleading. He looked at Pastor Jim for answers, but was met with silence. Dean didn't look up from his plate, not until Sam punched his shoulder with all his strength. "What did you do? You're always making Daddy mad! You're always making him leave!"  
.  
"Sam! That's enough!" Jim said sternly. He looked at Dean with worried eyes. He didn't know what all had happened in Fort Douglas, but he knew that Dean was suffering for it. 

"May I be excused?" There was no emotion in Dean's voice. Jim bit his lip, he wanted to refuse. The child hadn't eaten very much. But the look on Dean's face said that anything he ate wouldn't stay down very long.

"Go ahead," he said gently. Dean raked the food off of his plate into the garbage can and placed his dishes in the sink, then trudged up the stairs to the room he shared with Sam. He didn't come back down that night, or at all the next day.

Jim figured Dean deserved the chance to get his head together, but on the second day that Dean didn't appear for breakfast he decided that enough was enough. Dean hadn't eaten at all yesterday, had only drunk the bottles of water that Jim had left by the bed for him. He didn't do anything but lay in bed with his eyes closed. Not even Sam could coax him out of it.

Dean remembered the look on his father's face. Useless, he was useless. Why not just lay here in bed doing nothing? It's what he's good at. It's the only thing he's good at. Can't really mess up doing nothing, can you? But Pastor Jim didn't think that was a good idea. He insisted that Dean get up, told him to "Stop sulking" and "make himself useful."  
Guess he should be doing that. After all, they weren't Pastor Jim's kids. He didn't ask to be stuck with them. So, Dean got up, and tried to make himself useful. He cleaned the entire house, he cooked at mealtimes, he alphabetized Pastor Jim's library. He kept himself as busy as possible. Maybe this was good, too. Stay busy so he didn't have to think about how much Dad hated him now.

"Dean!" Jim sounded exasperated. "When I said to make yourself useful, I didn't intend for you to become cook, housekeeper, and secretary! I just wanted you to get out of bed!"

"Oh," Dean looked down at the dishes he was washing. "Sorry. I just wanted to help. Guess I messed up, again."

Jim sighed, "Dean, you're fine. You didn't mess anything up. I wish you would just talk to me. I'm worried about you."

Dean shrugged his shoulders as he put the last dish in the strainer. "I'm fine."

"You're always fine," Jim snarked.

Anything Dean might have said was cut off by the door opening. John was back! He barely looked at Dean, just told him to go and pack up their things. Dean heard raised voices from the kitchen as he and Sam lugged their duffle bags down the stairs. He didn't know what they were saying, he didn't want to know. He just loaded their bags into the trunk, got in the car, and waited. No way was he going to disobey an order again. Sam didn't understand why they had to leave. He had his little arms around Pastor Jim's waist, crying desperately that he wanted to stay. Dean wanted to tell him that crying didn't change anything. He ought to know. 

For the next few months, things stayed the same. Different motel rooms, different hunts. John still treated Dean coldly, and Dean thought that maybe things would be that way from now on. At least, until he could earn his father's forgiveness. He just had to keep being good, keep following orders.

Present day Dean nodded determinedly. His father would tell him when he needed his help, he just had to be patient.

"Dean! Come in here!"


	3. Chapter 3

"Dean! Come in here!"

Cooper winced at John's drill sergeant tone. Cooper's own father hadn't cared much for him either, but John even said the kid's name like he was spitting nails. Before Cooper had time to blink it seemed, Dean was standing in front of them at full attention. Cooper studied the boy from his place by the door. He shook his head ruefully. Who would have thought that John Winchester would produce a boy that looked like this. 'Or maybe not,' he thought. 'Maybe that's why he can't stand the sight of the kid. Sam is obviously his, looks just like him. But maybe Dean was the wife's kid, and John got stuck with him when she died.' That must be it, he decided. Although, if Dean looked like John's late wife, she must have been a beautiful woman. 

While John explained to Dean exactly what they wanted him to do, Cooper indulged himself in a long scrutiny of the boy. Dark blond hair just long enough to curl around his ears, just long enough to grab onto, sweet little freckles across the bridge of a straight nose, and the most luscious mouth. And that was before you factored in the huge green eyes framed by long dark lashes. Kid was a hell of a looker. 

Cooper tuned back in to the conversation in time to hear John ask Dean if he understood.

"Go into the creepy cave with the hot chick, make her laugh, make her cry, do not pass go, do not collect $200," Dean said cheekily. Cooper smirked at the response, but John didn't find it quite so amusing.

"You think it's funny that people are dying, boy?" he asked coldly.

Dean's tiny smile vanished. His eyes were quickly on the floor. "No, sir."

Cooper stifled a groan. With that one demonstration of submission, he was completely hard in his pants. He took the opportunity to adjust himself as John turned away to grab his coffee cup from the table. John sat in one of the chairs in the kitchen and rubbed his forehead in agitation.

"Dad? Are you okay?" Dean asked hesitantly.

"Just a headache," John said brusquely. Alarm bells started ringing in Cooper's mind, and he took a closer look at the other hunter. There was a tell-tale flush on John's cheeks and a glassy look in his eyes. Cooper wasn't the only one who noticed. While he had been inspecting John, Dean had gone to get the first aid kit from his bag. He placed a thermometer in John's mouth and waited grimly for the results. After a few minutes, he removed the mercury thermometer and checked it out.

"101.2," Dean whispered, biting his lip. "Do you-do you feel like you're going to throw up?"

John looked away, refusing to meet their eyes.

"Shit," Cooper breathed, "This just got a lot more complicated. We've got to get the tears from the Nereid right away. The full moon is tonight, so we have to mix the cure then for it to be effective. And we still have to figure out how people are coming into contact with it."

John made an irritated sound. "I've been over the file a hundred times. Different ages, races, genders... there's no pattern. There's no common ground. I don't know where it's coming from, though it's obviously somewhere that I've been. The problem is, I've been all over this town interviewing people. It could be anywhere."

"The coffee shop," Dean interjected quietly. Both of the older hunters turned to look at him, and he flushed a little but continued, " I couldn't sleep last night, so I looked at everything out here to get familiar with the case." He gestured to the photos and news clippings pinned onto the wall. "The first victim worked at the bank next door. The next one had a kid that goes to the elementary school two blocks down. The third victim was an employee, etc. The only thing they all have in common is that they all had a reason to be close to the coffee shop. Add in that none of the victims have been kids... well, I just thought it might be there."

Cooper watched the boy squirm for a moment before saying, "You might be right, Kid. And you're definitely good at being quiet! I didn't hear you come in here last night, and I sleep very lightly."

He turned to John and said firmly, "Level with me, John. Can you handle this? Or do you need to stay here?"

John stood quickly. "No way in hell am I staying here while Dean is on a hunt!"

Cooper held up a conciliatory hand. "I just needed to make sure. It's probably not a good idea for both of us to go with him, we don't know how far the Nereid's influence can reach. You take him to the cave, and I'll go check out the coffee shop. We'll meet back here."

John nodded in agreement and started to get his things ready for the hunt. Cooper laid a hand on Dean's shoulder and looked into his eyes. "Your dad is counting on you, Kid. If you can't get what we need in time to mix the cure tonight, he's done for. And so are the other two still in the hospital."

Dean stepped out from under Cooper's hand. "I got this. And don't call me Kid."

"Dean!" John barked. "Show a little respect!"

Cold green eyes met Cooper's with a level stare. "Don't call me Kid, Sir."

Cooper turned away to hide his smile. This boy was even more than he'd hoped for.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean sat in the passenger seat of the Impala with his hands underneath his thighs, trying to still their shaking. He laid his head against the window and breathed in a measured pattern, in and out, in and out. His father was driving with white knuckles. Suddenly, John veered onto the side of the road and launched himself out of the car to throw up. Dean bit his lip in indecision, should he get out of the car? No, John was already getting up and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He got back into the driver's seat and maneuvered the car back onto the winding dirt path that lead down from the bluff to the beach. From there they would have to walk.

"Dad? Are you okay?" Dean asked quietly.

"I'm fine," John said tersely. "You just worry about yourself. You're the one doing the heavy lifting on this one."

Dean swallowed hard. "Yes, sir. Do you think Mr. Cooper will find the hex bag at the coffee shop?"

John sighed. "I don't know. I hope so, because if not, we're back to square one." He cast Dean a sidelong glance. "Speaking of Cooper, what's up with you? You're skittish as a new colt around him."

" I-I don't like the way he looks at me," Dean mumbled, gazing steadily out of the window.

"You don't like the way he looks at you?" John repeated. "How the hell does he look at you?"

Dean flinched at John's hard tone. "Like he's hungry," he whispered.

John snorted in response. "Think you've been watching too many after school specials, Kiddo."

"Yes, sir," Dean didn't bother to argue. He knew what he'd seen. He just needed to keep his distance from Cooper. This hunt would be over soon, and hopefully Dean would never have to see him again.

They reached a parking area for the beach and got out of the car. John grabbed his duffel bag out of habit, although there really wasn't anything he would be able to do to help Dean. They walked for awhile along the shoreline until they reached the base of the cliff. Recessed into the rocks was a small inlet that led into a large cave. Standing just outside of it, Dean had the hysterical urge to giggle. This was it.

From behind him, he heard the sound of John retching again. "Dad, is it getting worse?"

John glared at him for a moment. "I think part of it is nerves, knowing that it's YOU going in there."

Dean took that comment like a body blow. He hung his head in shame for a moment, before shakily vowing, "I'm not gonna screw up this time, Dad. I promise."

John seemed to struggle for a moment before he grudgingly replied, "See that you don't."

Dean checked to make sure that he had his brass knife tucked into the back of his pants. The lore wasn't certain if it would kill a Nereid, but there were some accounts of them being injured by a brass weapon. It was better than nothing. Dean squared his trembling shoulders and walked into the cave, alone.

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************

When they set out toward the Nereid's cave, John kept his hands tight on the wheel to hide the fact that they were trembling. Dean was white-faced in the seat next to him, desperately trying to pretend that he wasn't scared. That was alright. John was scared enough for the both of them. God, was he really going to let his eleven year old son go into the home of a monster? At that thought, John wrenched the wheel to pull the car over. He heaved up everything he had eaten for the past few days, it seemed like. He breathed raggedly for a moment before wiping his mouth and turning back to the Impala. It wouldn't do to dawdle, Dean would be out of the car trying to mother him. They didn't have time to waste on comfort.

Of course, the first thing Dean did was ask if he was okay. Kid didn't understand that John was the parent in this relationship. 'And why should he? You're not exactly father of the year.' So, John deflected, asking about Dean's strange reaction to Cooper.

"I-I don't like the way he looks at me."

"How does he look at you?" John was panicking inside. Had he missed something? Was there a threat there that he hadn't seen?

"Like he's hungry."

John was quiet for a moment as he thought about the way Cooper had looked at his boy the day that he met Dean. Doubt swirled in his mind, it seemed like there was something..... No. Cooper wouldn't... it was just a child's overactive imagination.

"Think you've been watching too many after school specials, Kiddo."

"Yes, sir."

They finished the ride in silence, and before John knew it, they were at the cave. 'Oh, God. Oh, God. I can't let him go in there!' John lost his battle with his stomach, and vomited bile.

"Dad? Is it getting worse?"

John answered honestly that he thought part of it was his own anxiety about Dean being the one to go in. When Dean paled as though he'd been struck, John's brows drew together in a frown. And when Dean promised not to screw up THIS TIME, John knew that his words had been taken the wrong way.

John didn't do well with worry. It had a tendency to manifest as anger. So did guilt. Since the incident with the Shtriga, John had been avoiding Dean as much as possible. He couldn't look at the child without remembering that stricken look on his face. And when John had returned to Jim's, he had been horrified at the change in Dean. He wasn't sleeping, he wasn't eating, but most concerning of all to John, Dean wasn't talking. He had been silent for almost a year after his mother's death, and John was ashamed to realize that he had pushed Dean into such a similar mindset. Then, Jim had told him that Sammy had actually struck Dean and told him that it was his fault that John was always leaving. Sammy had no idea about the hunting world, and he had no other explanation for why his father was gone so much. John knew that Dean would have taken the accusation to heart. He had to fix this! He had to talk with his boy, and make him understand how important he was.. how much he was loved.

But he couldn't do that right now. He needed Dean to stay focused. So, he gritted out a rejoinder of some sort, and watched his stoic son march bravely into the unknown.

'Mary, please keep him safe.'


	5. Chapter 5

Dean carefully made his way into the cave, watching his footwork on the slippery, rocky ground. His heart was pounding with every step. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. 'Man up, Winchester.' He felt along the damp walls with his fingertips, using them as a guide when the light from the outside faded. He bit his lip in frustration, 'Should have brought a flashlight.' The wind was rushing into the enclosed space, making the roar of the ocean seem even louder. Dean was disoriented, and he paused for a few moments to let himself adjust to the darkness. Eventually, he was able to make out more of his surroundings. The air was thick with the smell of salt, and a greenish haze seemed to hover in the air above the water that flowed into the cave, forming a shallow pool. Edging around the little inlet, Dean found that the cavern extended deep into the bluff. Turning around a corner, Dean was pleasantly surprised to find a larger cavern that was lit up from above. Shafts of sunlight were somehow making their way down into the murky gloom. Stalactites hung from the ceiling of the cave, water intermittently dripping from them to the ground below. The whole place was otherworldly, like something out of a book.

Dean continued to gaze around himself in awe. "It's amazing!"

"Yes, it is," spoke a melodious voice from directly behind him. Dean whirled around, pulling his brass knife on reflex. Sitting on a large rock was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She had long, dark hair that waved like the sea and huge gray eyes that stared at him unwaveringly.

"Why have you come into my home? And with a weapon, no less?" She asked coolly.

Dean couldn't answer her. He couldn't do anything but want. She was gorgeous and perfect, and he'd never felt anything like this before. Dread was pouring throughout every part of his body, even as he felt blood pooling hot and heavy in his groin. 'Shit. I must be closer to puberty than Dad thinks.' Dad, right. Dad, who was waiting for him. Dad who was sick, maybe dying. Okay, yeah, that killed his hard-on.

He smiled at her with all of the confidence that he didn't feel, making a show of stashing the knife in the back of his pants. "Well, I would say it's for the pleasure of your company... but I think we both know that's not all that I want."

One perfect brow arched in inquiry. "Really? And what is it that you want?" Her fathomless eyes traveled over his small frame, taking in his youthful beauty and fiercely determined mien.

Her voice flowed like music, raising goosebumps along his skin and sending a flash of heated longing through him. Dean closed his eyes and tried to get himself under control. "Down, boy. This is not the time to be thinking with your Other Dean."

"Your Other Dean?" Amusement was heavy in her voice.

His eyes flashed open and he answered incredulously," Well, I'm sure as hell not gonna call it Little!" The words themselves might have been enough, but it was the LOOK on his indignant little face that sent peals of laughter ringing through the cave.

The sea nymph clapped her slender hands in delight. "Oh, well done, boy. You are quite refreshing! My name is Irianna. You will make a marvelous addition to my clan!"

Dean immediately backed up a few steps. "Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute. Nobody said anything about joining a clan, I've already got a family."

"Really?" The Nereid looked at him with derision. "If you do have a family, they must not care about you at all, sending you in here."

"Why-why do you say that?" Dean asked curiously.

"Because I can see that you are a hunter's child. Any hunter worth his salt knows that the Nereid not only enchant adult males, but we also captivate children in order to take them for our own. You will like living with us, I promise," she told him kindly.

"No, no." Dean shook his head in disbelief. "My dad doesn't know that, he doesn't! He sent me in here because he couldn't come! I can't come and live with you, I have to look out for my brother. We've got no one else."

Irianna tilted her head to the side and studied him for a moment. To Dean it seemed as if she were staring into his soul. With a sigh, she swept her hands through her long hair, pulling it over her shoulder. "Very well, " she said grudgingly. "But, you made me laugh so I will give you a wish. Just one, so make it count."

Relief crashed through Dean so hard that it made his fingers shake as he drew a small bottle from his pocket. Holding it out to her, he told her shyly, "I wish for your tears, please."

Irianna kept her eyes on his even as she shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry, Dean, it doesn't work that way. I could fill this up with tears, but they wouldn't do you any good. The 'Nereid tears' called for in spells are tears of sorrow, and they cannot be wished for.... they must be earned."

Dean's shoulders slumped and tears filled his own eyes. His dad was going to die. He and Sammy would be all alone.

Irianna cleared her throat and favored him with an encouraging smile. "Do you want to wish for something else?"

Dean shook his head wearily. "I can't. My dad said not to wish for anything else but the tears. It was an order, and I can't disobey another order. But maybe..." He broke off and looked up at Irianna hopefully. "Maybe you could grant _his _wish instead?"__

The Nereid looked at him dubiously. "So your wish is for me to grant your father's wish?"

"Yes, please." His voice was shaking nearly as much as he was. Irianna was watching him with her brows drawn together, and she stood abruptly and moved closer. She reached out one pale, slim hand and placed it on his cheek.

"Open your mind to me, little one, so that I may see your father's wish," she whispered.

Dean closed his eyes and thought back to that night a little over a month ago.....

_Dean lay in bed waiting for his father to come home. He wasn't on a hunt, he had just gone to the local bar. Sammy lay sleeping on his bed on the other side of the room, but Dean couldn't sleep until he knew his father was safe. Finally, a scraping sound at the front door announced that John was trying to unlock the door. Dean could hear his father cursing even as he hurried to let him in. Throwing open the deadbolt, Dean opened the door and quickly caught his father around the waist before he could fall in. He pulled John's arm around his small shoulders and helped him to the couch. John fell onto the couch and leaned his head back with a sigh. Dean knelt on the floor at John's feet and began to pull off the man's boots. Then, he lifted one leg and then the other until his father was stretched out comfortably. Laying a blanket over him, Dean patted the broad chest once. "Night, Dad."_

_He was walking toward his room when he heard the quiet whisper, "It should have been you."_

_Dean stopped and turned back to his father. "Sir?"_

_John was lying there on the couch, staring straight up at the ceiling as he answered in the same hushed monotone,"It should have been you that night, not Mary. It would have been better for everyone. It would have hurt, like hell, but... Mary and I would have had each other. She would have helped me through it. And Sam was so small, he still needed her so much. He would have kept her going. Eventually, we would have gotten over it. Maybe even had another baby... it should have been you." Then John turned his head to meet Dean's eyes briefly, tears sparkling like diamonds in his own. "I wish it had been you." ___

__Irianna drew her hand back with a gasp, "No! I cannot do that!"_ _

__Determined green eyes glared at her. "Can't or won't?"_ _

__"I wouldn't even if I could!" she hissed. "But such a thing is beyond my power."_ _

__His face crumbled and he turned away from her to hide his tears._ _

__"You poor boy," she murmured shakily. "How horrible is your life that you wish to trade it away for another's?"_ _

__"For my mother's!" He told her angrily, roughly wiping his face with his sleeve. "It would be better that way! My dad's gonna die, and if you can't bring my mom back, then Sammy and I are all alone. At least that way, Sammy would still have one parent to take care of him."_ _

__Irianna choked out, "Hand me your bottle."_ _

__Dean frowned at her in confusion, but passed over the small, heavy glass bottle. Irianna held the bottle up near her eyes and captured the tears that had begun to flow. She held back the sobs that wanted to come out, even as she wept copiously._ _

__When the bottle was a little more than halfway filled, she put the stopper back in it and held it out to Dean. "Take your tears, Hunter's child, you've earned them."_ _

__Dean carefully accepted the gift, and held up the little vial. The tears were obviously magical, with a luminescence that radiated. And they were also..._ _

__"Why are they red?" he asked curiously._ _

__Irianna smiled, and composed herself. "That is why they are so powerful. When a Nereid feels true sorrow, she cries her heart's blood."_ _

__Dean looked up in alarm. "I didn't mean to hurt you! Are you okay?"_ _

__Irianna swept her hand through his blondish brown hair. "Yes, sweet child. I'll be okay. And I still owe you a wish."_ _

__Dean shook his head firmly. "No way, my dad said no."_ _

__Pressing her lips together tightly, Irianna thought for a moment and then said, "Very well. Then I shall give you a blessing instead."_ _

__She put her delicate hands on both of his shoulders and looked deeply into his eyes," May the object of your affection return all of your love and care, and keep you safe along your travels." Dean closed his eyes as she placed a chaste kiss on his forehead, like a benediction._ _


	6. Chapter 6

_She put her delicate hands on both of his shoulders and looked deeply into his eyes," May the object of your affection return all of your love and care, and keep you safe along your travels." Dean closed his eyes as she placed a chaste kiss on his forehead, like a benediction. ___

__At once a cool, almost liquid feeling moved over Dean and he shivered as it tingled throughout his body. He opened his eyes and found himself staring directly into a wall of rock. His brows drew together as he gingerly touched the tips of his fingers to the damp surface. How did he get turned around? And where was Irianna? Turning, he realized that he was in the cavern with the pool of water again, but this time there was no outlet into a larger space... as if it had just disappeared._ _

__Shaking his head a little to clear it, Dean decided that the specifics didn't matter. He had gotten what he'd come for. He began to make his way toward the entrance to the cave, a little too eagerly. He slid across rocks precariously, but he had to hurry! His dad was counting on him. Finally, a little light broke through the haze as he reached the opening...a very little light. Frowning thoughtfully, he wondered if a storm was moving in to cause the area to be so overcast._ _

__Still, coming from almost complete darkness, he blinked a little against the light as he staggered and slid on legs that seemed rubbery now that he thought about it._ _

__"Dad? Dad, where are--" Dean broke off with a yelp as rough hands caught his shoulders and dragged him forward._ _

__"Where the hell have you been?! What took you so long?" John's voice was ragged, either from the incessant vomiting or his own fear. He gave Dean a solid shake as he waited for a response._ _

__"What-what do you mean?" Dean stammered, "I've only been in there for a few minutes, maybe half an hour."_ _

__John shook him again. "You've been in there for almost three hours, you little fool! What the hell were you thinking? I've been worried sick! I was just about to come in after you."_ _

__Dean paled at the thought of how his father might have reacted to Irianna. He shook his head furiously. "No, Dad, no. Time must have shifted, it was like a dreamworld in there. I-I promise, to me it was only a few minutes!"_ _

__John looked into pleading green eyes and relaxed his grip. Dean couldn't lie to him if he wanted to. He really believed he had not been in there that long. John sighed as he ran a hand down his face wearily. "Did you get the tears?"_ _

__Dean held up the little bottle of glowing liquid reverently. "Yes, sir."_ _

__John reached out to take the bottle but drew back before he could touch it. He turned and bent over at the waist to dry-heave, ignoring Dean's anxious queries about his well-being. Once he got himself under control, he straightened up and said, "Come on, then. Cooper's waiting."_ _

___******************************************************************************************************************_  
Getting back to the car seemed to take much longer than the walk in. Dean had to force himself to put one foot in front of the other, dragging himself along. He shivered as his father turned the key. The deep rumble of the classic car had never been so welcome. The heater came on full blast, and Dean blinked in confusion. He didn't even see his Dad turn it on! He rested his head against the seat and curled himself into a ball to get warm.  


When they pulled up to the cabin, they were surprised to see Cooper loading his duffel bag into his truck. John stepped out of the Impala and stood with one hand on the roof of the car and the other resting lightly on the gun at his back. 

__"Weren't expecting us back so soon?" John asked dryly._ _

__"Wasn't expecting you back at all," Cooper told him bluntly as he closed the truck door._ _

__"And why is that?" John demanded._ _

__Cooper shrugged nonchalantly. "I figured the Nereid kept the kid, and without the spell you were a goner so... why stick around? The job is done."_ _

__John was angry now. "Is it?"_ _

__Cooper nodded as he walked back toward the cabin. "The kid was right, I found the hex bag in the coffee shop under the cabinet where they kept the boxes of cream and sugar. I burned it, and called the hospital to check on the victims. One of them passed away this morning, and the other about an hour and a half ago."_ _

__John signaled to Dean to get out of the car. They walked inside slowly, John because he was wary and Dean because he was stiff. He was freezing! Being inside that cave had exposed him to the spray from the ocean, so he was damp all the way through. The wind felt like knives cutting through him._ _

__Cooper was looking at them expectantly when they got inside. "Well, did you get it?"_ _

__John gestured to Dean, who walked forward haltingly and handed the bottle to the other man. Cooper smiled as he held the bottle up to the light. "Oh, Kid, I knew you wouldn't let me down."_ _

__Dean bristled at the name and moved away from the hunter, but not before Cooper ran a caressing hand over his hair. "Good boy."_ _

__Flushing with embarrassment, Dean mumbled to his father that he was going to go take a shower. John had been watching the interaction between his son and Cooper with a slight scowl and it only deepened as he realized that Dean was wet and shaking._ _

__"Hurry up!" He snapped. "Get out of those wet things."_ _

__Dean flinched at the sharp tone and picked up his pace. He was almost to his room when he heard Cooper ask, "How did you get these from her?"_ _

__John broke in, "The plan was to wish for them, remember?"_ _

__Cooper laughed a bit, "Oh, I remember alright. But, I also know that nothing is that easy."_ _

__They both turned their gazes to Dean, who rested his forehead on the door of his bedroom with a sigh. "She said they wouldn't work if I just wished for them, said they had to be earned."_ _

__John pressed his lips together tightly. "And how exactly did you earn them?"_ _

__Dean lifted his head and turned to regard his father and Cooper with frustration. "Does it matter? I got the job done!"_ _

__Cooper cut John off before he could start yelling. "No, it doesn't matter. Not really. You're right, Kid. Go on, get cleaned up."_ _

__Dean didn't have to be told twice, he hurried through the door of his bedroom to get some pajamas and nearly ran to the bathroom for a shower. He wanted to lock the door, but hesitated. Cooper still gave him the creeps, but he thought his Dad might be sick again. Dean stood under the almost scalding water and trembled._ _


	7. Chapter 7

John watched with a scowl as the bathroom door closed behind his son. Turning back to face Cooper, John was disconcerted to see that the man was staring intently at the flimsy door that separated them from his naked child. He stepped into the space between the other hunter and the bathroom, breaking Cooper's line of sight and capturing his attention.

"What did you mean when you said that you thought that the Nereid had kept Dean?" 

Cooper shrugged, looking down at the bottle of tears in his hand. He kept flipping it over and over in his hand thoughtfully.  
"Any hunter who knows anything about anything knows that Nereids take children to raise as their own."

John's face went white. "And you didn't think that I might need to know that before I sent my son into her home?!"

Cooper rolled his eyes. "I thought you knew... I mean, _everybody _knows! I thought you didn't care!"__

__"Why the hell would you think I didn't care? He's my son!" John's fury was almost palpable._ _

__Cooper smiled at him slyly. "But he's not your son the way Sam is your son, is he, John?"_ _

__"What is that supposed to mean?" John demanded._ _

__Cooper was tossing the little bottle into the air and catching it now. "I mean, it's pretty easy to see that you can barely stand the kid. And he doesn't look anything like you. So, what, he was your wife's kid? You just got stuck with him, right?"_ _

__"No, I didn't get stuck with him... he's my son! My flesh and blood son, even if he looks like his mother more than me."_ _

__Cooper narrowed his eyes at him assessingly, then shook his head. "That's almost worse."_ _

__John opened his mouth to ask why and was cut off by the sound of a throat clearing. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Dean standing there uncertainly._ _

__"Shower's free," Dean mumbled, shifting from foot to foot. He looked a little better, bundled up in a hoodie and dry jeans._ _

__John cursed under his breath as he wondered when Dean had come out of the bathroom and how much of the conversation he had overheard. He started toward his room to get clothes from his bag when Dean's words from earlier passed through his mind. 'He looks at me like he's hungry.' Suddenly reluctant to leave Dean alone with Cooper, even long enough to take a shower, John shook his head firmly. "I'm good. Let's just get this done."_ _

**************************************************************************************************************

The moon rose high overhead as they walked outside of the cabin. Cooper gathered some things from his truck before making his way past the Impala to the little clearing out front. Dean was holding John's elbow for support as he threw up yet again. Cooper efficiently mixed together the ingredients for the potion and handed Dean an old leather-bound book, already opened to the correct incantation. Dean took the book reverently, releasing his father's arm to hold the tome with both hands.

"So, Johnny, let's talk," Cooper said coldly. "I have the tears of the Nereid that you need to complete the potion. What will you give me for them?"

John straightened up in shock, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. "What did you say?"

Cooper grinned at him. "I said I've got you by the balls. What are you going to do about it?"

John's eyes were burning with rage. "What do you want?"

Cooper was tossing the bottle in the air again, up and down, up and down. "I was thinking an even trade, the tears for the boy. I'll even be a good sport and leave you the book so you'll have the spell. Think about it. You get the things you need to break the curse, I get a hunting partner to train the way I want. Hardly anybody knows about him... I mean, Singer and Jim Murphy will both believe the Nereid took him. Who else even knows he exists? I get what I want, and you get rid of a kid you don't want. One less mouth to feed. Everybody wins, what do you say?"

'This isn't happening,' John thought deliriously. 'This man did not seriously just ask me to hand over my child, and Dean isn't really looking at me like he thinks I might do it.'

When John didn't say anything, Cooper kept talking," You know, I'm trying to be nice here. I could just shoot you, and keep the kid anyway. At least this way, you have a chance."

"I'll kill you," John whispered. He was looking at Cooper like he'd never seen him before. "Do you not understand that? Do you not know anything at all about me? If you leave me alive, I will hunt you down and kill you. You'll take that boy over my cold, dead body."

John staggered forward like he might try to kill him right then and there, but Cooper stepped back and pulled his gun from the small of his back.

Cooper shrugged. "Fine by me." The sound of the gun going off echoed through the air.

John went down heavily, bleeding from his shoulder. 

"Dad!" Dean screamed. He moved forward to go to John, but Cooper grabbed his arm and pulled him away. "Let me go!"

"Your choice now, Kid." Cooper's eyes were lit with madness. "Come with me and I'll leave the stuff here. Or shall I put another bullet in Johnny and make you come with me anyway?"

Dean swallowed hard as he looked at his father's prone figure. John was losing a lot of blood, and he was already dangerously dehydrated. Bowing his head, Dean whispered quietly, "I'll come with you, just don't hurt him anymore."

Dean laid the heavy book on the ground next to the bowl of spell ingredients and held out a hand to Cooper. "Give me the bottle."

Cooper raised his eyebrow. "Ask me nicely."

Dean gritted his teeth as he heard his father beginning to moan his way back to consciousness. "Please, give me the bottle, sir."

Cooper smirked as he tossed the bottle to him. "Oh, Kid, you and I are going to have a lot of fun together."

Dean shuddered at the leering gaze. "Whatever, let's just go before my dad wakes up."

He made it to his feet before Cooper's hand tightened around his throat. "I don't like this attitude of yours. We'll have to work on that." Dean's hands wrapped around Cooper's wrist and tried to release the strangling hold. Just as his vision began to go dark, he heard a deep voice rumble out.

"Take your hands off my boy before I break them!"

Cooper tossed Dean to the ground beside John Winchester and turned to face the newcomer, "Who the hell are you?"


	8. Chapter 8

John groaned as he awakened. His lashes fluttered as he willed his eyes to open. His head was pounding, and he felt dizzy even though he was pretty sure he was horizontal. 'Damn, how much did I have to drink? And why the hell didn't Dean make me drink some water before I passed out?' The thought had barely flashed across his mind when it was followed up by memories of the night's events. _Dean._

__The adrenaline that began to surge through him gave John the strength to get his eyes open and search desperately for his son. Seeing Dean with Cooper's hand wrapped around his neck and a gun held to his head filled him with a fear that he had never known. John was struggling with his body, trying to drag himself toward them when he heard another person enter the fray, "Take your hands off my boy before I break them!"_ _

__Looking to the stranger, John only half realized that Cooper had thrown Dean to the ground next to him. Cooper was demanding to know who the man was, pointing his gun at him threateningly. John didn't recognize him, though something about him seemed familiar. Shaking his head, trying to clear his tunneling vision, he deliriously decided that it didn't matter. Nothing mattered so long as Dean was safe. He needed to hold his son. Even as he was reaching for the boy, he heard Dean's terrified scream, "No! Don't hurt him!" and struggled to hold onto consciousness as Dean launched himself at Cooper. The sound of the gun going off would haunt John's dreams for years to come. Somehow, Dean managed to get the gun away from Cooper, and it hurtled across the clearing to land on the grass._ _

__Cooper punched Dean in retaliation, and John registered the sound of bone breaking as he tried in vain to get up. Dean had fallen to the ground like a stone, out cold even before he fell. There was a roar from the stranger, and then he was tackling Cooper to the ground. The world flickered and spun around John as the smack of flesh against flesh filled his ears. Finally, he managed to get a hand on Dean's arm. John licked his lips and tried to say his son's name. The only sound that rent the air was once again the vicious crack of splintered bones._ _

__Flat on his back now, one proprietary hand on his boy, John stared up at the star-filled sky. After a moment, the stranger stood over him, breathing hard. Again, John had the fleeting thought that he knew him, but he had no idea why. The man scooped Dean into his lap and cradled him lovingly.  
"Don't....please don't hurt him," John begged. One dark eyebrow raised over steel gray eyes. A huff of disbelieving laughter escaped full lips. The man opened his mouth to make a rejoinder, and changed his mind as he realized that John was just barely holding on. A strong hand brushed the hair from Dean's forehead, and a smooth cheek was lain against the sandy hair. _ _

__"You can let go, Johnny. I've got him. Nothing's going to hurt our boy now."_ _

__'Not really like I have a choice,' John thought bitterly as the darkness swallowed him._ _

__*******************************************************************************************************************************************************_ _

__

__"Dean. Dean, I need you to wake up."_ _

__The low, rumbling voice was foreign, and at the same time as familiar as his own. Dean pushed away the last of the fog that he was in and opened his eyes. Blearily he looked around the room, and tried to put together the details of the situation. He was laying on the couch in the living room of the cabin, so someone had taken him inside.. _Dad! _____

____Dean lurched into a sitting position and instantly regretted it. His face! Oh, God, his face had it's own heartbeat. He blinked and tried to clear his hazy vision, but it didn't take him long to realize that his right eye wouldn't open. Tentatively he probed the skin underneath his eye and around his cheekbone. 'That left a mark,' he thought dumbly._ _ _ _

____"Are you alright? Dizzy? Blurred vision? How many fingers am I holding up?"_ _ _ _

____Dean squinted at the man in disbelief and then flipped him off. "This many."_ _ _ _

____A chuckle was the only response for a moment. Then, with all seriousness," Do you know who I am?"_ _ _ _

____Dean reached out and traced a tattoo on the man's forearm before looking up with a slight smile, "I'd know you anywhere."_ _ _ _

____The smile he got in return was blinding. "Good, good. I wasn't sure. Well, that will save a lot of time and explanations. And time is something we don't have a lot of. You've been out for a while, boy. I patched your dad's shoulder up, but I'm going to need you to do the potion and spell thing. I can't read Latin." The last was said with a great deal of self-disgust._ _ _ _

____Dean nodded wearily and stood from the couch. The dizziness got worse once he was vertical, and he found himself practically carried back out to the clearing.  
'Man up, Winchester. Dad needs you!' Dean shook off the support and got right to work, mixing the Nereid tears into the rest of the potion and reading the incantation under the light of the full moon. His throat felt like he had swallowed knives, and his voice was no more than a whisper. Hopefully, that wouldn't matter. Once he was finished, he consulted the book again to be sure of the final steps. It looked like all that was left to do was to pour it down John's throat._ _ _ _

____Dean held his breath as he stood at his father's bedside. John almost looked dead already, he was so pale. Dean pried John's mouth open and dribbled the liquid into it, stroking his throat with the other hand to get him to swallow. As soon as all of the potion was gone, Dean whispered one last sentence in Latin and there was a flash of bright blue that traveled all over his father. Feeling the hair on his arms stand on end, Dean shivered and stepped back. John relaxed into the bed with a sigh. Until that moment, Dean had not even realized that he was tense._ _ _ _

____"Looks like it worked."_ _ _ _

____Casting a glance over his shoulder, Dean gave a little sigh of relief. He opened his mouth to ask a question and winced._ _ _ _

____"Hey, hey. I know it hurts to talk. Do you...do you remember any signs?"_ _ _ _

____Dean brightened immediately. Using his hands haltingly, he signed _'You know ASL?' _____ _ _

______The man gave a self-deprecating laugh. "I know a little bit. Enough to get by. I don't think you should talk right now. Let's get an icepack on that face, and your throat, and your--Hell, boy, why don't you just get into an ice tub?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______Dean would laugh if it didn't hurt so much. He needed to take some pain killers and rest. Before he could though, he had to know. He raised his hands to ask the question, only to have them grasped in a much larger one. "It's okay, sweetheart. You can relax. Cooper's not a problem anymore."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Dean squared his trembling shoulders and pulled his hands free. _'Is he dead?' _____ _ _ _ _

________Those steely eyes appraised him for a moment before he received a slow nod. "Yes, he's dead."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________'Good.' ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
